SPEAK
by Taisi
Summary: All he wanted was to find his voice. Jojo-centric
1. Chapter 1

**JOJO DRABBLES!1 God I love that kid. Not only because he was so cute and so sad, but because of how much potential he has, and what a deep character his is. These are focusing solely on him and his dad; basically, Mayor's finding out what kind of a Who his son really is. **

**WARNING: Beware SAPPY-NESS and ANGST and JOJO-Y CUTENESS. Well, don't be-ware that last one.**

**NOTE: This is a drabble ficlet. Each chapter will pretty much have its own plot; a few might tie in with others, and if that happens, it'll be in chronological order, so don't even worry about it.**

**Unfortunately, I don't own any of the characters from **_**Horton Hear's a Who, **_**nor do I own the movie itself (I wish, though, I'd be getting rich fast).  
**

_SPEAK:_

_unspoken_

He had to escape the noise. 

His house was always _too loud. _Whoville in general was always _too loud. _There was always some commotion going on somewhere, and he was succeptible to headaches; he got them _easily. _There was nowhere at home he could get any peace and quiet, which was why he'd gone on the hunt for a place he could use as a quiet, peaceful retreat for himself and himself alone. 

The old observatory proved to be the perfect such retreat; the old stairs had worn away with time, so he'd created an elevator system to bring him up to the slingshot. He was glad that _that _was still in working order; it'd have been a fatal happenstance if the aim were off even by an inch. 

He _loved _the observatory. It was wide and open, and his alone. The rest of the town liked bright and flashy things; no one noticed the smallest Who taking over an abandoned old building. In no time at all, he had machines up and running, plumbing, electricity--and he never stopped. He added more and more; not because he planned on fixing the place up nice to enjoy by himself--only because he loved to put things together. He gathered materials and tools from different places; no one noticed them gone, and if they did they'd only assume they'd misplaced it long ago.

He'd never planned on showing _anyone _his place; it was _his place. _A sacred place without annoying shrieks or crying or toys laying everywhere. A place that wasn't popular, wasn't crowded. 

But he'd _had _to do something--with the town belittling his father, there was no way he could have just done nothing to help him. He'd rushed back to the observatory, throwing a few switches here, modifying a few details there. He'd not expected his father would follow him; for a moment, he couldn't move when he saw his father had stepped inside. He was afraid; and suddenly very lonely--because, once again, he was sharing what used to be his and his alone. 

He shook his head. No need to dwell on the past. Everything was back to the way it was. 

Horton came by every few days; his father and Horton loved catching up. Even if they could never really meet face-to-face, it was obvious to the entire village they'd struck an alarmingly fast friendship and would be friends for a long, long time--staring doom in the face could do that to people.

Horton had given Jojo a purpose for awhile, though, and for that he was grateful. For a few, breathtaking moments, his father was proud of him. His father was focused solely on _him; _smiling and hugging him around the shoulders, letting him hear what he'd always longed to. But it was a one-time thing. It was a reward for being so useful; he'd helped, and gotten praise.

Even if it was for a short time, his father had been genuinely proud of him. It wasn't something he'd ever forget. 

He smiled, sliding open the window and slipping outside in the cool night air. The wind blew gently through his fur and he shivered not uncomfortably and started down the path. He paused when he heard his father's voice; glancing toward the source, he saw his father sitting on the roof with the horn, conversing with Horton. 

_"Yeah, that was a great finale," _came the elephant's voice, _"you totally blew those Noolans away." _As Mayor laughed, Horton continued, _"Who was the soloist?"_

"Oh, you mean Jojo?" Mayor grinned, though Horton couldn't see it, and the smile was heard in his voice as he continued, "Yeah, that was him."

_"Wow, that kid can sing. You must be proud," _and it wasn't a question.

"I am."

Jojo's eyes widened. He couldn't move; he was vaguely aware of his father saying goodnight to Horton, and continued to stand there as his father jumped from the roof into his bedroom window. He forgot to hide; Mayor saw him. 

"Jojo?" the mayor frowned. "Why are you out here?" He noted his son's rigid stance. "Are you okay?"

_He said he's proud. _Jojo dropped his gaze, unsure what to say. He could do nothing but stand silently, as usual, and wait out the storm. When he made himself small, and kept himself quiet, people left him alone after awhile. Then, they began to glance over him. His father never overlooked him, because he was his precious heir--but Jojo wanted nothing to do with that kind of attention. He'd rather be ignored; and that was easy, with ninety-six siblings.

His silence was having the opposite affect, as it only worried his father more. "Are you hurt?" Mayor asked stepping closer. Jojo made sure not to look up, still trying to make himself invisible. His dark fur camalouged himself greatly in the nighttime; it'd come very in handy for sneaking out to the observatory. But for some reason, he had the feeling that that wasn't going to work this time.

But...

_He said he's proud._

Jojo smiled at the ground, suddenly feeling like something heavy had been rolled off his shoulders. "I...I'm fine," he said quietly, unable to force volume into his voice. He lifted his dark gaze to his father's, sharing his smile. 

Mayor looked a bit surprised, but took it in stride, ruffling his son's hair. "Good to hear--but why were you out here so late?"

Jojo glanced over his shoulder in the general direction of the observatory. His place. "Just getting some fresh air. Night, dad." And he left his father standing there, ducking inside and into his room quickly. Smiling, he curled into his pillow.

Some things were better left unsaid.

_And I just can't fight this feeling anymore._


	2. Chapter 2

**Yay! People read it! :D Hip, hip, huzzah! I don't have much to say at all...So let's begin!! n.n **

**Note: I DID warn you about sappiness...xD Also corniness; I'm adding that one now. So no flames!! I will NOT accept them!! DX**

**Enjoy!**

**FYI--this one's not very good. It's just an idea I had, so I had to write it. -bow- Gomen. I'm working on a good 'un, though...**

_SPEAK:_

_warmth_

He'd never thought to fear a storm.

When lightning flashed, illuminating and shadowing simultaneously, Jojo would be wakened not by the following thunder, but the screams erupting from his sisters' room across the hall; being the only boy, he got his own room--no girl wanted to share their room with a _guy. _So even at a young age, Jojo would wake up to listen as his father and mother comforted his siblings, telling them gently that everything would be just fine. Maybe it was because, even years ago, Jojo hadn't wanted to be a burden on his parents' already quite heavily burdened shoulders. He might have felt that since he was the oldest, he should be brave; which was why he learned to wait out the storms.

Not that it was hard; he heard music in the rainfall, the wind and the thunder. It soothed him back to sleep in no time, it always had. In fact, it was what had inspired the machine that had helped to save Whoville--the tiny chrome balls falling down the twisted metal ladder with high-pitched rings was the rain pattering lightly against the glass pane; the kite strings twining around the sheets of metal was the wind rushing through the leaves of the tree just outside the window; the giant rubber-band balls falling onto the tautly stretched sheets with a _boom boom _was the thunder following the bright rip across the sky that was lightning.

Not only that, but storms made him feel humble. They proved that there would always be a stronger force than him; that no matter how strong he became, or how brave, he just couldn't beat the pure energy of lightning or the booming power behind thunder. No one could--under the skies, they were all equal.

He loved feeling equal; like he was on he same level as everyone else.

Any other night, he would have welcomed the storm; _any other night. _

But he'd been told the skies would be clear tonight; he'd left the observatory open to air out the paint fumes and let dry the wet paint.

They told him the skies would be clear.

--

He stood, drenched and panting, in the doorway. It was dark inside; he flipped the light switch, immediately semi-blinded by the brightness. He lightly ran his fingers over the undamaged paint and frowned, slumping against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

_I made it._

He'd been able to shut it from the outside just before the rain really started falling. Nothing had been ruined; he'd have to drag in some fans later to air it out thoroughly before anything else could be done, but other than that, everything was fine.

He smiled, rubbing his arm.

_I'll come back in the morning._

--

_"Jojo!" _

He winced, caught in the act of rushing down the hall to his bedroom. He let his hand fall off the knob and turned to face his parents' wrath.

"Where have you been?" his mother said at once, stepping forward and checking him over. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and said nothing, allowing her to towel him dry. _Why _she had a towel, he didn't know. She didn't seem too surprised by his silence--would anyone?--and wrapped the towel around his shoulders when she felt she'd done a thorough job. "I don't know what you--" she started again, but was interrupted by her husband, who put a hand on her arm.

"Sally, why don't you make sure the girls are getting settled," he suggested, somewhat pushing her towards their door. "I'll talk to Jojo. Okay?"

Despite what he'd been expecting, his father only said, "I trust your judgement, Jojo; you're a smart kid, and you know right from wrong. So whatever you did had to have been important." He took the towel from around Jojo's shoulders. "So get some sleep, okay?"

_Right from wrong? _Jojo frowned to himself, thinking over his father's unexpected words. His silence earned him a smile, and the mayor ruffled his hair. "Goodnight."

In his room, he thought about it as he bundled himself up (he got cold easily and hated it). He'd somehow earned his father's trust; he didn't know how...Was it just an unestablished thing between father and son? The thought made him feel small, suddenly; that, maybe even if he was undeserving, he'd have his father's trust...Thunder clashed outside, and he gripped his blanket tightly, startled he was afraid.

His door opened; he realized his house was silent, thus, by extension, his sisters were asleep. He didn't open his eyes to see who it was; his parents always checked in on him to make sure he slept well after they'd taken care of his sisters. He felt his father draw the blanket farther up over him, and his mother kiss his forehead. He heard their footsteps, and the door close.

And suddenly, he felt a whole lot warmer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Yaaay! An update! Wheeeeoooo!! -dances G.I.R. style- ...Anywho...Um, I'm really surprised at all the reviews I got for the two previous chapters. xD; I sincerely hope I can keep writing up to your expectations, everyone!**

**Also, I apologize for this story's lack-of-life. ;A; I'm sorry! I got writersblockneosis and couldn't write a single word that didn't suck! I'm hoping I'm over that now, though! ED; **

**And now, onto the Jojo. **

_SPEAK:_

_help_

For the most part, everything he's done in his life, he's done on his own.

--

Sally wiped her wrist across her forehead, and smiled over at her helper. Jojo stood on a stool at her side, running a drying cloth over the plate he was handed and then reaching up to stack it in the cupboard above his head. "Thanks for helping me out, Jojo," she said, rubbing her hands dry on her apron. "Your father's just so stressed at the moment, I didn't want to bother him. And you know as well as I do how the girls do with the chores," she smiled.

Jojo glanced at her, dark eyes questioning; and somehow his mother managed to catch his inquiry. "Oh," she looked slightly surprised. "Your father's busy with all the repairs; Whoville's in a sorry state right now."

Jojo picked up the last plate, running the dishtowel over it as he thought once more of how close his town had come to certain destruction. He reached up to put away the plate and then threw the towel onto the counter. As he jumped down, his mother caught him by the arm.

"Why don't you go see if he needs help?" she suggested, eyes intent on his. He stared up at her, conscious of her grip on his arm. "I'm sure he'd appreciate it; your sisters like making messes and aren't too keen on helping clean them up. But I think your father would like someone to alleviate some of the pressure, right? Go make it fun for him."

He had a sudden thought of his dad, alone in his office, harming himself with office supplies. Jojo smiled, looking down; his mother smiled as well, rubbing back his hair. There was nothing more precious in the world than Jojo's smile. Jojo nodded to her, and strode away slowly, down the long hall. He passed a few of his sisters, ignoring them completely. He stepped outside; the wind nearly blew him back in. He stood in the doorway for a moment until the wind died down, and then continued forward, headed to the observatory so he could think.

--

_"Hey, Jojo!" _

_The dark-haired Who looked up, an expression of mild disinterest on his face; he held a small screwdriver and one of the toys he'd gotten the day before for his sixth birthday. He remembered a second too late that he wasn't supposed to have the simple tool and scowled because he knew his father had already seen it. As he thought, the mayor said sternly, "Jojo, what have I told you about getting into the toolbox? Those things are dangerous, little guy. Now hand it over."_

_Jojo did so without arguing; his father and mother were very busy with the newborns, and he didn't want to make it harder on them. Ned knelt to be on eye-level with the little Who and said, "How about you and I go out and play some catch with your new ball at the park later?"_

_Jojo brightened, and nodded enthusiastically. It seemed like a long time since he and his father had ever done anything together; each time they tried, something came up that drew away his father's attention--and honestly, Jojo was getting tired of the disappointments. Maybe this time will be different, he thought hopefully as he gazed up at the much taller Who._

_Ned smiled and ruffled his hair affectionately, standing again. "We'll go after lunch," he promised. "Deal?"_

_Then his father got an emergency call; a building had collapsed on the other side of the village due to water damage. He'd rushed out without a bite to eat, reluctantly leaving Sally and Jojo with the infants. During lunch, Jojo watched his mother's eyelids continue to droop dangerously. Finally, he slid out of his chair and took his wailing sisters from his mother, carefully balancing their weight. He waited for her to realize her burdens were missing, and then watched her expression change when she saw him. "Oh, Jojo," she said with a sigh, leaning down to kiss his forehead, "you help us out so much, you know that?"_

_His sisters had quieted when he took them from his mother, and they were now burbling happily, stroking his dark fur with clumsy fingers. He smiled smally and sat down in the living room, letting them play on his lap. He stroked their hair, eyes never leaving his mother. She leaned wearily against the counter, bracing herself with one hand and rubbing her temples with the other. Jojo thought for a moment, before scooping his sisters up and taking them to their cribs. They didn't seem thrilled that he was leaving them, and almost started crying again._

_The six-year-old 'shhh'ed them softly, touching them each on the nose. They looked up at him with trusting round eyes, and he let them play with his fingers for a moment, before he drew away and trotted down the hall to his room; he drug a chest out from under his bed and dug around in it for a moment, until he found the item he was looking for. It was a little wind chime, made with bits and pieces of things he'd found about the house or outside; the music it made was soft and comforting, not at all obnoxious--it had taken him a long time to get the sound just right._

_He took it into the kitchen, where his mother was feeding her third little girl, and waited for her to notice him. When she did, he held it out to her, handling it carefully. Sally looked confused, but she took it and held it up by the knotted string at the top. The chim swayed and she was surprised at the beautiful little music it made. "Jojo, did you make this?" she asked him in surprise._

_He nodded, and then turned away again. He looked at the clock and found it was one-twenty-two. He deflated a bit, picking his ball up from the floor and fingering it. With an almost-silent sigh, he walked out the front door and went to sit in the park. He rocked back and forth on the swing for a good half an hour, knowing his father would be a no-show--again. _

_Furiously, he threw the baseball as far away from him as he could, and stalked angrily from the playground; he would no longer set himself up for any disappointments. He kept walking, even when the buildings around him became unfamiliar; he didn't ever want to stop walking at that moment--he wanted to press on forever, if it meant not having to turn back. _

_And that's when he found the observatory--the most magical place in the world. _

_--_

The observatory held the same wonder for him now as it did back then. He ran his fingers fondly over the wall as he walked, smiling around him at his huge workshop. And then he sank slowly into a chair, picking a pair of pliers up off his desk and fiddling with them, smile fading as he thought.

_--_

_He opened the door slowly, stepping inside. It was dark outside, and the stars were already shining in the sky. As he shut the door, his mother and father came rushing into the foyer; his mother staggered against a wall, weak with relief, and she whispered, "Oh, thank goodness." Ned knelt down and grabbed Jojo's shoulders, snapping angrily, "What do you think you were doing out there by yourself?" Jojo stared up at him with enigmatic eyes; he reached up and pulled his father's hands off his shoulders, taking a step back from him. _

_He spoke to them for the first time in long time, startling them. "I waited in the park for you," he said, voice below a whisper, dark eyes unforgiving, "and you never came. You didn't even come look for me." He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away. He ignored Sally and Ned's calls after him; rather than answer, he picked up one of his sisters, who'd crawled over to his feet, and cradled her close, feeling close to tears and trying not to cry even though his eyes burned and he wanted desperately to. The toddler in his arms reached up to touch his face with her tiny hand, aware of his sadness--because despite what adults seemed to think, children are perceptive and nowhere near stupid._

_The next day, he didn't sneak tools out of the toolbox; he simply took the whole thing and disappeared with it early the next morning before his parents could corner him in his room. He lugged the heavy thing up the winding path to the observatory, angrily dragging it behind him up the incline. _

_From then on, everything he needed to do he would do himself--because the only person he could trust was himself; no one else would help him._

_--_

Ned glanced up at the quiet knock on his door. "Yes? Come in," he called, eyes falling back to the documents in his hands. The door swung open silently, then closed; the mayor waited for someone to speak, and when no one did, he sighed and looked up again. "I'm rather busy, so if you could--" He blinked, and his eyes brightened when he saw Jojo. "Jojo! Hey, kid, how are ya?"

Jojo merely looked at him, offering him a silence that wasn't unfriendly. Then he said, "Mother asked me to come help you." But his father knew at once that he'd come of his own volition--because Jojo wasn't one to mindlessly do what he was told if he really, really didn't want to.

The mayor smiled. "Thanks, son. I appreciate the help."

Jojo looked away.

**LE SIGH! This was a long time coming. -sigh- This is probably the last update. Thanks for all the support, guys! I'm sorry I've been a bum! ED;; Please review!**


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